EJ was our first born son, he was conceived on August 9, 1990. My husband and I were very ready to start a family, and were pleased and surprised how simple it was for us, after having several friends and family who had struggled with infertility. We were very thankful, and felt God's blessings surround as we prepared for his birth. We chose not to find out his sex since we knew it would not change God's plan. My pregnancy was beautiful, I felt great from day one, not a hint of nausea, I had more energy than ever, and I found myself becoming more in tune with my body than ever. Other people noticed the change in my personality, this was something that definitly agreed with me.I remember the first flutters of his movement and how I fell so in love with this being inside of me and was overwhelmed at the miracle occuring in my body. I read every article and book on pregnancy, talked to as many people as I could to try to prepare myself for the delivery. (I have since learned to trust nature and your body and to not have so many expectations) I wanted to believe in my body, I wanted to experience his birth without intervention, and without medication to dull the experience. Yet I found myself so prepared, yet so not trusting my body, that things did not exactly go as I "had planned."

At 30 week, during a routine visit, following a discussion of braxton hicks contractions, my doctor did and internal exam and found I had dialated to 2 cm. Things started happening very fast, and all the things I had "planned" were now changing very fast. I was put on medication, bedrest, and now had to make the hike to the dr. 2 times a week.

Being the optomist that I am, I am not sure that I ever really let the potential gravity of the situation sink in, I just felt so good, I knew that it would be alright.

During my 36/37 week visit, they found me to be 4-5 cm dialated, and my blood pressure slightly elevated, and decreased movement in the baby, and decided to induce.

It was exciting, scarry and overwhelming all in the same moment. They broke my water in the office and sent me to the hopital to deliver. It took about 3-4 hours before anything even started to happen, I just visited with family, talked on the phone,and walked the halls. ( In hind sight, I should have taken this time to relax, and to tune into my body--remember I was already 5 cm.)

Around 11:00pm, I started to feel uncomfortable, and excused my visitors and began to experience labor. My husband by my side and a nurse in the room. All very nice, but very little help.

Shortly after that, knowing I really wanted a natural labor with no medication, my md walked in and asked when I wanted the epidurel, wrote a standing order, and said "no reason to suffer"--and "try to get some sleep" Still firm in my conviction, I said no thank you. About an hour later, I began to shake, vomit and found the pain now winning, I could no longer stay on top of the contractions and much to my dismay, my husband and the nurse both kept asking when are you going to get the epidural, neither understanding my desire.Against my wishes, and feeling very defeated, I gave in sometime around 12;30 am. knowing I could no longer do this myself. Everyone tried to convince me it was the right thing, I tried to believe it for a long time. ( come to find out I was 7-8 cm when the put in the epidural and went back to 6 after) .

Around 4:30, I felt like I needed to push, so they called the dr. and sure enough it was time. I was totally reenergized by the feeling I had in my body wow how incredible. I began to push and things were going well, except his head would not come down below the pelvic ridge. So they turned off the epidural, so I could push more effectively.

Shortly there after, I felt this tremendous urge to push and I did not want to stop, or my body did not want to stop, I knew we were at a pinacle point, I remember being lost in the moment.

His head emerged "sunny side up" both hands grasping his face and that was as far as he would go, I could see the panic, I knew I had to work very hard.

Much of the rest is a blur, I just closed my eyes and pushed, while they pulled, and pushed and pulled and pushed. My husband hung on close by to me, encouraging me always.

Then "HE" emerged, he was perfect, nothing else mattered my little boy was here, he was alive and well, all 9lbs 14 oz of him. I was so much in love what a miracle, what a fantastic experience. It really did not matter that his right side was paralyzed, I believed it would all be ok when it needed to be. ( that was from damage to his brachial nerve from his shoulders being stuck--they had tried to break his clavical to assist in his delivery, but no luck, so he was bruised some)

I knew this experience had been tough on him, yet he never cried, he just looked at me with such endearment, I am sure some of this formed his character.

His name is EJ, named after his father (Edward Joseph). He recovered from the nerve damage within 4 months and has been nothing but a typical boy with an incredible spirit ever since.

I learned a lot from my first experience, and each of my 2 subsequent deliveries are very, very different, but all with beautiful results.

EJ is now 8 years old, and in the 2nd grade. He is a beautuful boy, with a fantastic personality. I am grateful for the experience.